The Little One
by GenvieveWoolf
Summary: With scorpions, the bigger, the better..." Mutt thinks he's going to die-or worse. Takes place all in-cannon and may just make you laugh out loud. K plus for "mild peril," as they say in the kiddie movies.


_This story is a totally within-cannon fic. It begins with a quote from KotCS and ends with an action from KotCS. Mainly humor, minor angst. :D Please review if you like it._

_**Author's note:**__ It is helpful but not necessary to ready my story "Like a Father" before you read this one. But it's a stand-alone._

_Disclaimer: Do I really need to remind you that I didn't make Indy and Mutt up? Sheesh. But I __**do**__ own the little one. :D_

THE LITTLE ONE

"If a little one bites you, don't keep it to yourself."

Mutt tucked the information on scorpions away for later contemplation and tried to get his cool back as he followed the professor into the depths of the cemetery. It didn't take him long to decide that though Dr. Jones was an asset in a fight, he might just be off his rocker. As batty as Oxley had gotten.

Or maybe not. The teacher did seem to have a knack for opening secret doors. Although, when he started opening burial shrouds, Mutt began to wonder again. He'd been scared silly three times already, and the night wasn't over yet.

_First, crazy, bone-wearing natives, then a scorpion sting, now some conquistador melting before my eyes,_ Mutt thought. _What next?_

Next, of course, was the skull. A crystal skull that gold stuck to. Could things get any freakier?

Not nearly soon enough for Mutt, Dr. Jones suggested that they should leave.

Mutt gladly led the way back to the great stone disc that was the final door to the tomb. As he crawled over its surface, he felt something else crawling...on his wrist.

_Oh, no_, he thought wildly. _Not again!_ He shook his hand wildly in the air, knocking it painfully against a bit of rock that jutted down from the ceiling. Then he felt it a second time: the sting of a scorpion. This time he was almost as angry as scared. Locating that offending edge of rock above him, he knocked the scorpion against it with a satisfying _crunch_.

"What are you doing?" Jones asked from behind him. He sounded annoyed at the holdup.

"Another scorpion stung me," Mutt snapped, crawling around so he was facing the professor. "Here it is...does it look big enough to you?"

Jones studied the squashed remains of the scorpion. "Well...his pincers are pretty small. I'd say this guy relies more on his venom to kill his prey."

"Oh, great. Am I gonna die _this_ time?" Mutt felt his pulse quickening as his panic grew.

"Not if you stay calm," Jones said slowly. He leaned in and put his mouth over the sting on Mutt's wrist.

Mutt grimaced as the old man began sucking blood from the sting. _This can't be happening to me,_ he thought. _This is too weird. Please, don't let anyone find out about this...I'll never live it down!_

Jones turned his head and spat on the floor next to him. "I need your knife," he said.

"Are you gonna cut my hand off?" Mutt asked, his voice cracking.

"Of _course_ not. Don't be silly."

Not very reassured, Mutt reached back with his free hand and retrieved his switchblade from a pocket. Out of habit he opened it, twirled it around and offered the handle to the professor.

As Mutt braced himself for more pain, he watched Dr. Jones bring the knife down—to sever the tail from the scorpion.

"Thank you."

Mutt put the knife away. When he turned back he saw that his companion was further mashing the scorpion between his fingers.

"What the..."

"Hold still." Dr. Jones spread the goo over the sting.

"What's that supposed to do?" Mutt hated how exasperated the teacher looked. As if Mutt were stupid or something.

"Scorpions are venomous, right?"

"Uh...yeah..."

"But they're not killed by their own venom."

"Right..."

"They're immune to it."

"Ri—Oh! I get it...so one half kills you, the other can save you."

Jones shook his head. "It's not that simple. _If_ this works at all, it will neutralize only the venom that's near the surface. Some of it is already in your bloodstream."

"So, there's still a chance I could die."

"You won't die."

"Dr. Jones, you...you wouldn't lie to me, right? You swear I'm gonna make it?"

"You're going to make it."

Mutt breathed deeply and stared at the slightly swollen, slime-covered spot on his wrist. He shuddered and felt sick.

"But," Dr. Jones added, "you have...to stay..._calm_."

"Right. Calm."

"We'll go back to the village and get you a pain killer and a cold compress."

"That sounds good, Gramps."

"Think you can move now?"

Mutt licked his lips. "Um...yeah...if that's a calm enough thing to do."

"Just take it slow and you'll be fine."

"OK." Mutt didn't care anymore that he had completely lost his tough image. "Um...Dr. Jones?"

"I'm still right in front of you."

"Right. Um...would you go first?"

The corner of the professor's mouth twitched, and Mutt knew he was trying not to laugh.

Mutt scowled. "I mean...just so—"

"It's fine. I can go first," Jones said in a voice so kind it was infuriating.

"OK." Mutt shuffled to the side and let Jones pass him.

They crawled on until the stone slab tilted back to its original position.

When they emerged from the tomb, dawn was breaking. It would have been beautiful if they hadn't been surrounded by the Russians.

Mutt didn't wait to hear any introductions. He stepped forward with every intention of asking, "Got any aspirin?"

But then a chubby, middle-aged guy pointed a pistol at him and he decided to keep his mouth shut.

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_If you enjoyed, please review to let me know! __:)_


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